Emilia's POV
I leaned against the king’s door, trying to catch my breath. My hand clutched at my chest as though it could calm the storm inside me, but it was no use. My heart was beating so violently against my chest like it wanted to break free.
I had run all the way here, but not even the sprint through the corridors could explain why I still shook, why my knees threatened to buckle beneath me.
Because I had followed him.
I hadn’t meant to. When he tore himself away from me, the look in his eyes had carved through me like a blade—raw, violent, something I couldn’t name but couldn’t walk away from. I had told myself to stay put, to let him go. But my feet had betrayed me, carrying me silently after him, each step too fast, too reckless, like I was chasing a truth I wasn’t ready for.
